


battered marble

by wind girl (amixxhan)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: I CAN ASSURE YOU THAT THE NON-CON IS NOT BETWEEN THE TWO DWEEBS OK, Implied Kidnapping, M/M, Miscommunication, Modern AU, Multi, as usual the medical stuff is very vague bc the author still sucks at bio, awkward!r is my aesthetic, enjolras is also bad at feelings, i kinda regret this, jehan is a cinnamon roll, no really, no seriously if something sets red flags i would take this down, one sided pining, pining in general, pls tell me if something is horribly wrong in this i apologize in advance, r is very bad at feelings, rape recovery kinda, reunion fics, the non-con is not graphic okay, the rating is for safety, there is a bit of dub-con bc r is an awkward shit, there's a lot of implied sex ok, this is very heavy bc i was in a really bad mood bc i failed a subject, tw: rape and alcohol abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 11:13:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10161929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amixxhan/pseuds/wind%20girl
Summary: "r?""yes enjolras?""do you love me?"battered marble touched broken granite, and r knew what to say next."yes. and nothing can change that."in which enjolras was missing and is found.





	

"r— we found him. we found enjolras."

grantaire almost dropped his phone in suprise. enjolras went missing two years ago. they had a fight. everything went to hell.

"is he—"

"fine? physically i guess, but mentally? he's been fucked up ten times over," combeferre admitted, "i'm taking him to our old flat if that's fine with you."

"i'll be there in five. and of him?"

"we can figure out something by today. we took down the missing person case at the station. courf— jesus christ stop that!"

he can hear courf snicker quietly at the other side of the line— "fuck you."

"enjolras?"

"passed out. we did first aid before we got out, banged up a bit but mostly fine."

"exactly what happened to him?"

there was an uncomfortable silence. "it's just a hunch but— prostitution probably. that's the main reason we went to the police."

"fuck."

"exactly," courfeyrac sighed, "we found him in a fucking brothel r. out of the window."

"two years— who knows the full extent of shit he's been through. uh, and grantaire— you might want to bring a set of clothes."

"on it. be there in a few."

"see ya!" courfeyrac. combeferre hung up.

this is gonna be one hell of a day. he groaned.

* * *

 

grantaire rapped on courf and 'ferre's front door no longer than ten minutes later. backpack loosely hanging on his back, slung over a shoulderblade.

courf opened the door mere seconds later, "hey, 'jorlas is with 'ferre. well— first aid is fucking essential."

"i know that you asshole." he grunted, throwing the bag down at the white couch," the clothes are in there, be fucking thankful i didn't throw them away."

courf started to rummage through the said bag, pulling out a complete set of clothes— his clothes. normal clothes, that ridiculous red sweater he loved wearing even if it's scorching hot, a white shirt (courf chuckled at the 'france b4 pants' printed on the front), jeans. his old reading glasses. decent underwear.

"god 'taire. he's—"

"i know."

"i'm sorry."

"don't be, seriously, any of us couldn't have prevented this. as long as he's alive—"

"i know. he's here now. no one can hurt him now."

* * *

 

'ferre didn't kid on the 'banged up' part.

even in his normal clothes enjolras looked strange— he was thinner for one (he didn't eat much, even before— and r can only imagine how—). dark circles lined his eyes—he was mostly clean now, but only courf and 'ferre could tell him how fucked everything is now.

"apollo?" r asked. he was on the verge of tears now, fists clenched so hard his knuckles were white, eyes downcast and every single nerve wracking with uncertainty.

he didn't respond. normally he would, enjolras would always have a response to everything— 'cause fuck everything. nothing is perfect and he'd slander everything in his way to get it as great as possible.

"it's fine enjolras."

the flames in his blue eyes were extinguished. they were dull.

"h-hello."

his voice was weak and timid.

"oh fuck—" r whispered. all the things that comprised enjolras— gone. used up. and there's a nagging feeling in his head that it won't return (he's alive and you should thank the universe for that— you can help him— you can attempt to help him heal—) anytime soon.

he was picking on the sleeves of the red sweater, like he hasn't worn anything in so long. oh fuck— what did they do to him?

"enjolras? i-it's fine if you don't—"

"i-it's fine sir—"

combeferre's eyes had a hint of worry (fear, he corrected himself).

"enjolras— we aren't here to hurt you—"

"t-that's what they all say."

courf's hand is on r's shoulder.

"i should leave. i'll call."

and r turned around and slammed the door behind him.

* * *

 

"i can't do this anymore jehan."

r takes another swig from his bottle, jehan writing furiously in their notebook. feet up on the table, chewing on their pencil pensively.

"you still love him."

it wasn't a question. r sighed and nodded. jehan raised an eyebrow and continued with scribbling down stuff r can't see.

"he needs you r. and only god knows what happened to him, he can't be strong all the time r, he's not god."

and jehan's right again (for someone younger than everybody in les amis, jehan does know how they all tick— there's wisdom in their eyes that only 'ferre seems to match).

"combeferre called me earlier. he's on a verge of another breakdown."

"i- i can't help him— not like this— he- he—"

"it's alright r.we all need to be selfish every once in a while," they say, melancholy lacing their voice, "but he'll need you. he'll need all of us. we're threading on eggshells now r, but we need to be there for him."

r just chugs from his bottle. fuck life.

jehan shoots him a worried glance, and closes the notebook abruptly. "i'll be going to them, care to join me?"

"one day. not today."

when jehan leaves, he turns to his drink and stares at it. he takes one final swig and leaves for home.

another day over. he's gonna have a shitty hangover tomorrow.

* * *

 

combeferre calls him the week after the incident with jehan.

"jehan's right about him— he needs us all, that applies to you too r."

"he hates me."

"he doesn't."

"he doesn't remember."

"he does. he keeps asking for you."

"i'm not going."

"i'm getting bahorel to drag you here."

"i'd like to see you try 'ferre. i'll see you not soon then."

he hangs up and he collapses to his bed. he needs a fucking drink.

he sighs. the world couldn't be crueler.

* * *

 

and bahorel did drag him off to courf and 'ferre's place. he was too pissed off to resist.

* * *

 

'ferre had laid out a coffee and an aspirin pill on the counter.

**r.**

**if you're reading this, it means i'm at the hospital for my ojt and everyone else is busy. courf has some shit he needs to sort out, just an hour r.**

**-combeferre**

**p.s. the coffee is for your hangover, jehan told me you've been drinking again. take care of yourself.**

the coffee's still warm, and he drinks from the cup, taking the aspirin and shoving it inside his throat, finishing everything in a matter of minutes. the bitter taste enveloping his mouth.

"enjolras?"

there was no answer. he checked the living room. no sign of the blonde.

courf and 'ferre's room was locked, and there's no sign of noise anywhere within.

so he must be in the in the spare room. and there he was. sitting on the bed, head bowed, twiddling his fingers. grantaire sits near him, a little to the left.

"enjolras—"

he was silent. looking at him blankly. silently. something grantaire never thought will ever happen.

"hey," he says softly.

there's a ghost of a smile on his face and maybe— maybe nothing happened to him and everything would be back to normal—

but he notices combeferre's sweater is slipping off his shoulders, revealing an undershirt and bare shoulders with fingernail-shaped welts that are starting to heal. his lips are chapped and split, and faded bites and handprints line the width of his neck.

"i—"

"you're not going to hurt me?"

"why would i?"  _i won't ever. any of the amis would ever hurt you. you know that. **you fucking know that enjolras**._

but perhaps he'd forgotten. his fingers brush r's and he doesn't bring it up again.

they sit in silence.

every moment is tantalizingly slow, minutes stretched out to hours in perspective. enjorlas— battered marble he might be— is still as eretheral and beautiful that day he disappeared. r counts the minutes until courf gets back.

( _tick_   _tock_   _tick_   _tock_   _tick_   _tock_ )

time was driving him insane and he perfectly knows that. and enjolras— his presence was unlikely and uncaring and unrelenting before but now it's like a gentle breeze that comforts but surprises r, summer in the middle of winter and fuck— he's here but r can't touch him and comfort him without provoking something and he hates that feeling of falling and being so helpless—

he glances at his pocket, jehan had fiddled with it the last time— and he finds a card. the hanged man. helplessness and inability to act.

enjolras looks at r with this slightly dazed look he used to make fun of and r feels like this is the worst moment he'd had in his whole fucking useless life.

"enjolras?"

he hadn't noticed the hand resting on his knee, working it's way closer—

"you don't need to—  _ah_   _fuck_!"

 _not fucking now boner_.

"enjolras, listen to me." r had set enjorlas' hand aside now, holding it like he had before any of this shit happened, his hand clasped against the other's. "oh fuck— how should i word this— i love you but— i  _can't_ do this to you— not after— fuck enjolras, it's just— i can't  _i_   _can't_ —"

r's half-sure he's already crying. silent tears trailing down his cheeks.

( _i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't_ )

"i won't hurt you enjolras— i can't and i don't— any one of the les amis won't. we won't touch you if you asked."

"i- i"

enjolras barely can speak.

"thank you."

he grips back, and r manages to kiss his knuckles. "we love you. don't forget that. don't forget that you're as human as all of us. that you can say no. that—"

r trails off, and enjolras kisses him full on the lips. and when he pulls back he smiles and looks like himself for a moment.

"do you permit it?"

(  _this is when he realizes that he can never ever say no to enjolras_  )

r kisses back. looks at the other with concern.

"enjolras—"

his silent whisper is left unnoticed as the other merely pulls him closer.

(  _say no say no say no say no say no **but he can't**_ )

enjorlas' hands are on his hips and he can't muster up the courage to pull him off— because this was  _enjolras_  and enjolras— he can't say no to him ever. period.

(  _i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't_ )

his lips on r's own and he's undoing r's jeans and wouldn't bother with his shirt and his hands are going down and down and down—

and the front door opens and closes.  _courf._

"enjolras?"

(  _oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck_  )

and that's how courf finds r, pants half-undone, fully erect and flustered as fuck.

he leaves as soon as possible.

* * *

there's a half-pint in his hands when courf calls at an ungodly hour of the day.

"hm?"

"r."

"courf? that you?"

"yeah. look, about yesterday—"

his eyes droop down. he almost drops the pint he's holding. he sputters something incomprehensible, and sets down the container. he runs a hand through his hair, and speaks.

"courf—"

"r, we all know about you two— it's just—"

"i know. i tried saying no. i  _can't_ i'm weak—"

"r. i didn't tell 'ferre, i promise. but god, enjolras won't shut up about you. he misses you r."

"no. i can't courf, not like this. not right now."

"not after yesterday?"

" _yes_." his voice cracks. tears threaten to spill from his eyes and  _fuck_  he feels like he's dying.

"i'll see you soon. musain tomorrow?"

"i—"

"just the two of us, a pint of beer maybe. 'ferre's free tomorrow."

"sure thing— tomorrow then?"

"see ya!"

* * *

 

combeferre's frazzled at this point. courf had gone to the musain to calm r down and he was alone with enjolras and enjolras isn't himself and it breaks him to see him like this.

(  _it's like they're ten years old again and enjolras is hopelessly, irrevocably **lost**  _)

"it's alright enjolras, we wouldn't dare."

enjolras relaxes. shoulders slumped, legs dangling from the end of the bed.

"you're allowed to remember. the rules don't apply to you any longer."

"combeferre?" his voice was wistful and dreamy— caught in another dimension perhaps, "does r—"

"r? grantaire? he would move mountains for you."

enjolras' face blanks out for a moment. he breathes in deeply.

(  _did r do something?_ )

"i— i tried to—"

"it's fine enjolras, i'd talk to him if you want."

"i'm sorry."

"what?"

"please— tell him that."

"i will. but you need to calm down— could you do that?"

enjolras nods. combeferre smiles softly.

* * *

 

"so that was him?"

r downs another drink after the question. "yes."

courf sighs and passes him a pint. "i'm sorry."

"i can't courf. i just can't—"

his eyes trails off. and combeferre enters the musain without enjolras.

"before you both ask, marius and cosette are with him."

he sits down next to courf, who then pinches his cheek. "r—"

"he told you then? god—"

combeferre sighs, "he told me to say i'm sorry. what happened r?"

he freezes, half-finished beer mid-air, gaunt eyes on 'ferre. "uh—"

he shakes.

"r?"

courf's hand is on his shoulder again, "we're here r. we won't leave you."

"i'm sorry. i  _can't i can't 'ferre_. i could've gotten him to stop—"

"who?"

" _enjolras_ — i couldn't— i  _wouldn't_ say no. i know the shit he's been through and i really didn't want to have—"

"r."

"—to  _have_  sex with him given what happened but he was kissing me and i  _froze_  and i can't move my hands and i can't push him off and fuck—"

" _r_."

"—i swear to god i don't want to hurt him at all but he was—"

"it's fine r."

he visibly relaxed.

"god— i fucked up big time."

"it's going to be a long road for both of you. we'll be here every step of the way," courf tells him, tucking a stray hair back behind his ears.

"yeah, one day. something next to normal. we'll never get back to normal."

"i guess so."

and they toast to the future and they know everything's going to be alright. one day. baby steps, but they'll be there.

(  _drink with me to days gone by—_ )

one day. they'll be there one day.

* * *

 

the next time enjolras and grantaire meet face to face, combeferre is worried for them both.

"we can't have them having another misunderstanding courf—"

"i know. they'll sort it out 'ferre. they always have."

the two men peered inside the bedroom. enjolras' hand on r's cheek.

"they're fucking dweebs."

"i know."

they look at each other uneasily.

"should we let them?"

"it's their lives 'ferre. let them sort this out themselves."

and they walk away hand in hand. uneasiness not fully alleviated.

* * *

 

enjolras' hand is on his cheek.  _enjolras was touching his cheek_.

"are you alright?" he asked, and the blond smiles at him.

"better than before," enjolras replies, and his eyes flit towards the door. "they're watching. don't make it obvious we've noticed."

"noted." r smiles. a genuine smile, and places his hand over the one on his cheek. "enjolras."

they stay there like that. and it feels like everything's back to normal.

* * *

 

r honestly expected to go home that night. he guesses that he'll feel guilty in the morning either way. but now there's fingers up his ass and he feels enjolras' breath on his neck.

* * *

 

months later enjolras starts to look like himself again. the bruises have faded, purple skin now back to it's pinkish hue. the bags under his eyes had lessened significantly and he was gaining weight again, ribs now hidden and not jutting out.

he's recovering physically. combeferre isn't sure mentally.

his memory has gaps. he's still half-scared if he meets someone new (or someone familiar). he still has nightmares and night terrors and other things 'ferre couldn't fathom.

"you okay enj?"

"yeah."

he's still picking at his sleeves and combeferre shoots a worried look to his direction.

"i swear 'ferre," enjolras adds, "i'm fine."

"want me to call r?"

"yeah—"

he won't be back to his previous state, before the incident, but combeferre knows he'd come out stronger than he'd ever been. and with everyone he loves by his side, it might take long, but he'd get there.

* * *

 

"r?"

"yes enjolras?"

"do you love me?"

battered marble touched broken granite, and r knew what to say next.

" _yes_. and nothing can change that."

he presses his forehead to enjolras'. and they stay like that for a while, noses touching— with him murmuring i love you's under his breath.

"i love you too."

and that was all r needed to hear. this was the start of a new adventure— they may be flawed and broken and imperfect— but they have each other and that's what matters to him.


End file.
